


His To Play With

by Sionna_Raven



Series: Snacks and Letters: the naughty parts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom!Sirius, M/M, Post-war AR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sionna_Raven/pseuds/Sionna_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-War AR, approx. 8 months after Sirius returned: It took them months to become friends. To take it one step further seems madness, since when has this ever stopped Sirius Black?</p>
            </blockquote>





	His To Play With

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sirius part of the slash spin-off to 'Snacks and Letters'. How they became such friends is the subject of the still unfinished main story. Please accept it as a fact that they are.  
> Warnings: Romance; Bottom!Sirius; BDSM, SSC, mind games; bondage; denial of orgasm;spanking; some blood play; whipping; mention of past real torture.

The evening of Severus' birthday passes peacefully, only the two of us in his private dungeon quarters. He has kept them all the time; his rooms, the headmaster's office still feels too much like Dumbledore. Kreacher has made a birthday cake, dark chocolate with a scent of peppermint, a good measure of fine brandy and the tools of potion making as decoration. He is wearing a bright green paper hat, when he serves it. I guess Severus thinks it's rather childish, but he is getting used to the elf and his weird ways to show respect and affection. My present has been of a more reasonable kind, a cashmere scarf and gloves. I couldn't help but notice how easily he gets cold and how desperately he tries to hide it.

We talk about my first days as a teacher. I have discovered that I really like teaching. The kids are all right, mostly. There were one or two Slytherins muttering “Filthy blood traitor!” behind their books and some Hufflepuffs who seemed to be scared stiff. Severus shows me half a dozen letters forwarded from the Ministry. Parents complaining that the notorious Headmaster of Hogwarts has been allowed to hire an ex-convict and fellow Death Eater to teach their children. Nothing unexpected. A note attached to the letters says that Ministry officials went to see those parents and explained the facts, no need to worry.

A 7th year Ravenclaw tried to test my theoretical knowledge of the subject. Yes, Mr. Rowan, occasionally even a former Gryffindor can and does read a book and remembers the contents. A group of 6th year Gryffindors attempted to play tricks on me. Rather disappointing, the younger generation is not in the same league as we were. Grease on the blackboard and a sticking charm on the teacher's chair was 1st year stuff in my time. From tomorrow there will be a charm on the doorstep to the classroom to detect and confiscate all Weasley products. Sometimes it is very useful to be acquainted with the inventor and his family. Molly uses the same charm on the Burrow.

Severus roars with laughter, when he hears this.

Schoolboy pranks, of course we remember the past. To our surprise not all the memories we shared were bad. Too many are, though. I try to change the subject before we feel uncomfortable and take a look around his office. The shelves full of potions and ingredients are still there, along with neat rows of books and the jars with odd samples and specimens Harry and Ron told me about with disgust. Totally Severus, though I don't share the boys' opinion. There were more disgusting things in my mother's cabinets when I was a child and she didn't even have the excuse of being a potion professional.

“Do you really use this stuff or have you kept it to scare your visitors?”

“There's nothing scary about it. Just rare and valuable samples. You do remember the school's stores have not always been safe.”

I stand up and move closer to one cabinet, quite curious about what he deems so rare and valuable that he keeps it in his own rooms. Boomslang skin is not cheap and he kept it in the stores. There's a tiny little bottle covered with dust. He can't have touched it ever since he put it in the cabinet. The liquid within has a faint mother-of-pearl shine. I know this should be telling me what it is, but it has been so many years...

I take the bottle out and hold it against the light. I can almost hear old Sluggy describe it, but my usually infallible memory has gone blank. I can't remember the name or its use.

“Could you please put it back? I told you the contents of my cabinets are valuable!”

The sharpness in Severus' voice startles me or perhaps the brandy in Kreacher's cake has made my reflexes slower. The bottle slips from my hand and smashes on the floor.

“Black, can't you perform a simple task without making a mess?! What's the matter...?”

I stare at the small puddle on the floor. The scent is overwhelming.

“What the hell is that? That smell is.... strange!”

The frown in Severus' face is replaced by some kind of mischievous amusement. “What does it smell like?”  
The mocking tone should warn me to answer his question.

“Dark chocolate and peppermint. Old-fashioned fish and chips, you know, like it used to smell, when they still wrapped it in old newspapers. Books, parchment? Water, a river? So what is it? I guess it's not a poison.”

Severus chuckles. “The girl at your favourite take-away must be a real looker.”

“The girl at my favourite take-away is sixty, wears thick purple glasses and has a wart on her chin. What has that woman to do with your potion?” The blank spot in my memory clears slowly. “This is Amortentia! I can assure you it has nothing to do with Meg. Perhaps I'm growing old and my heart is set on less romantic desires. Anyway, your turn, be fair. What does it smell like for you?”

I can almost feel his black eyes pierce my mind, then relax. He starts his list quite casually. “My turn, fair enough. Mountain thyme and heather, roses, ...almonds and honey...........” He stops abruptly. “I don't think it's the time to discuss our non-existent love lives. We'd better call it a day. You have to teach NEWT classes first thing tomorrow.”

He steps up, vanishes the mess and practically shoves me out off the door.

It takes me long to fall asleep alone in my quarters. My heart is cold and empty. I hardly smelled anything that wasn't really there.

***

Severus is busy the following days, start of term administration. In a way that's fine with me. I lack the routine in class preparation work and Severus has been right my predecessor didn't do a proper job. Nevertheless I hope for a free weekend for both of us. I want to spend some time with Sev. I already have an idea what to do. Talking about the past on Tuesday, the good memories that is, reminded me that I still owe Sev to get even for a certain incident. Our duel after Regulus' first match, the one James ended abruptly and unfairly. I want to know, if we're still up to it.

I suggest it to Sev at lunch on Friday. He seems hesitant, but definitely tempted.

When I argue that in a broader sense attack and defence spells are part of my teaching job and theoretical knowledge alone won't suffice, he agrees.

“No Dark Arts!”

“No Dark Arts, of course. We don't need them, do we? Fair and square like the last one. And no audience to interrupt. Kreacher said the castle has rebuilt the Come-and-Go room. Meet me in the 7th floor corridor at eight.”

***

The duel is as much fun as last time. Better even, Severus' skills have much improved. Or maybe he's just less nervous and twitchy knowing that this time there won't be any attack from my friends to get me out of trouble. I need to recall all my former seeker's speed to dodge his hexes and I am not always successful. Neither is he in blocking mine. Hexes and jinxes, minor curses, blocking and dodging, hits and misses. Nothing has changed since our 4th year. Neither of us gets the upper hand. I don't like the thought that Severus is probably right we needed to go two on one to keep him down. Nah, he can't beat me either.

“Serpensortia!”

A snake comes flying at me.

“Return to sender!”

It twists itself into a neat bow tie and vanishes with a pop before it reaches him.

Severus trips over the laces of his boots tied together. Ouch, toenails growing again, c'mon Sev, you shouldn't have left the counter curse in your notes. Harry told me.

What the laces couldn't achieve a Rictusempra does. Severus rolls on the floor laughing, panting. I've underestimated his amazing self control. A flock of attack chickens are pecking at me. I get rid of them and stand in a whirl of feathers, sneezing and spitting. My next hex hits thin air. His speed and precision in movement is amazing. He still looks a bit like the scrawny kid on the train, but there's more than skin and bones hidden under those robes.

What? I'm imagining things under Snape's robes? Trying to Confund me is a nasty trick.

A leg locker curse barely touches my knee and makes me jump with the stiffened leg in a strange angle. Concentrate, Sirius! I counter with a battery of stinging hexes. Severus is shaking all over, trying to swat non-existent midgets in reflex. He is breathing heavily, but that doesn't stop him from sending a volley of curses.

I shut him up by tying his tongue to his palate. His eyes are blazing with fury. While I'm pulled up by the ankle, I call myself an idiot. Severus has always been good with non-verbal spells. I still have my wand and not forgotten the release spell.

He gives me the time to land on my feet and get steady again, before I have to make a dive behind a kind of wooden barrier the room provides for cover. A large bubble which was supposed to burst over my head splashes to the floor. Severus smirks with the Slytherin branch of chivalry. Not for long, because the puddle forms itself to a man-high wave and rolls over him leaving him soaking wet. I stand up, lowering my wand to signal that I will wait until he has cast a drying charm. Severus passes his wand over himself, one sleeve after the other, chest and back and the dripping rim of his robes. His wary eyes send flashes at me behind the black curtain of his hair. Curtain? Not exactly, a few single strands which have fallen into his face curl into little ringlets. One has a tiny drop of water on its tip which will fall and run down Sev's nose any second. It must tickle, because his nose twitches rather cutely. Severus looking cute is such a funny idea I can't help but laugh.

Don't laugh when someone is pointing his wand at you. I should have learned that lesson. Instead I try to disentangle myself from my robes. The sleeves have grown into thick ropes and wound themselves around me like snakes.

While I struggle to get my wand arm free, Severus draws closer. He has won and he knows it. The knowledge of victory suits him. There's a bit of colour on his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes, strength and confidence and something else which sends shivers all over me. His hair doesn't look so lank and greasy right now, a bit ruffled, nice. Strange, it should look worse. More strange, I shouldn't care for his looks, but I do. He looks gorgeous, adorable. He did during the whole fight. I lick my lips. He observes me carefully. If he reads my thoughts now, I'm a dead man.

I've finally managed to get my wand and hand out of the damned sleeve. The robes open at the front and slide down my body and leave me standing in shirt and jeans. Tight jeans, very tight I notice in shock. This is impossible! I'm not attracted to men! Never have been, but this is Severus Snape and he is anything but an ordinary man. No! I'm not getting hard for Severus, no way! I am.

I try to avoid his eyes. He doesn't need to read my mind to know, does he?

“Something wrong, Sirius?” He asks softly. To hear him say my name is almost too much. I'd obey any order from this voice. I feel unable to move, thinking only of him just inches away. He grabs my wand and pockets it. I don't care. What's wrong with me? Am I finally going mad as everyone expected?

In a last attempt to keep my reason I step backwards. Curse the magic of the room, always adapting to need, Severus' needs. I find myself pressed against the wall.

“Everything's fine. You've won, all right? I surrender.”

He moves even closer. Please don't, I can't control myself, if you... No! Please don't touch me. Please do, don't move away. He must feel that I'm trembling all over. He puts his hand on my shoulder. I can feel his strength. I wish he was holding me in his arms, caressing me with his skilled fingers. I turn my face towards his hand. I can kiss his fingertips, if I tried. I want to, so desperately.

“You do surrender? To me? Really? Anything else you want to tell me?”

He is reading my mind. He smirks? Smiles? Is this his ultimate revenge? Make me say that I want him, that I love him. I love him. There is a cat's hair on his shoulder. Alexi, black cat, chocolate with peppermint. I've never felt anything like that, but I know what it means. I can only look at him, hopeful, hopeless. I want him. He can do anything... with me.... to me. Anything. I'll do anything he wants me to do. Please don't play a cruel game.

This voice again...

“What do you want? Sirius. Tell me what you want. Tell me!” Does he know that I must obey his command? My lips form the word 'You!' without a sound.

“I can't hear you.” He can, he knows. Bastard! He smirks, eyes glittering. “Say it. The whole sentence, if you please, in correct English. Maybe your wish will be granted.... maybe.”

'Maybe' is the best chance I'll get. I'll take it. It can't get worse. He knows anyway.

“I want you, Severus. Please...”

“Good boy, already begging....” He brushes my face with his hand. I lean into his touch. I still want to kiss his fingers, his hands. He's so adorable. I'm out of my mind. Has he slipped me a potion to put me into this state? No. He wouldn't do that. I trust him. Severus' hand slides to the back of my head. He grabs my hair and pulls me closer. My legs are wobbly, I rely on his other arm around my waist to support me. I'm a good deal taller than him and heavier, but he is able to hold me easily. When his lips press on mine, I moan. It's different to the girls I've kissed, less soft and squishy. Our tongues meet, play, explore. It's rough and hungry and oh so good. I don't want this kiss to end. It gives me hope that he wants me as much as I want him. Pressed against his body I feel the unmistakable proof that he does want me. Only his arm around my waist holds me upright, steady. When he loosens his grip, I sink down to my knees. I'm on my knees at the feet of Severus Snape. It should feel like humiliation, embarrassment to be reduced to that, but all I feel is that I am exactly where I want to be.

Pretty close to what I want. I stare at the unmistakable bulk right in front of me. I clearly understand the rules of this game. His rules. I can't take what I desire most without asking for permission first.

I look up, questioningly, pleadingly...

“Not yet,” he says. “You'll get your treats, when you're a good boy. You know how this works, don't you?”

Yes, I understand. I will be a good boy.

“Undress, I want to see, if it is worth the fuss.”

I swallow, but nobody has ever accused me of lack of confidence about my looks. I'm still in good shape... again, turning into Padfoot has given me all the exercise I needed. Azkaban hasn't left too many marks on the outside and months of Molly's cooking did remedy what the years afterwards had done.

“Slowly, don't hasten. Show me what's on offer.”

What does he expect? A striptease to seduce him? Whatever, I'll do my best. Shoes and socks first, there's nothing more ridiculous than a naked man in shoes and socks. Opening one button of the shirt after the other until it slides down my shoulders. Curse these jeans; there's no way to get out off them without looking a complete fool. The little voice of reason whispers in my mind that I really should feel embarrassed by now. My cock seems to have developed a life of its own and tries to get out of my pants all by itself, bigger and more eager than I can remember. I get rid of that last piece of cloth and my cock nearly jumps at him. He still looks amused and curious. How does he manage to keep so much control? Not so much in control anymore. His own member has followed the example of mine and not even his wide robes can hide the size. Whatever his face or his words say, he is interested and obviously likes what he sees. I remember what I said, when James threatened to remove his pants that day in June. I was wrong, not nightmares, the sight of 'little Snivellus' would have had deprived many of their nights' rest. He steps close, close enough to touch. Oh yes, please! Touch me, let me touch you.

“Put your hands behind your back and don't move.”

I do as he says. I've lost all will of my own or is following his orders all I ever wanted? He inspects me thoroughly. Then he traces the tattoos with his fingertips.

“Muggle-made, aren't they? Why? Because it seemed cool to endure the unnecessary pain or did you actually enjoy it?”

I don't know what to answer.

“One should have been enough to proof your bravery, so you do enjoy the pain, don't you?”

His smile should scare me and more so the way his fingernails trail over my chest, leaving faint red lines and a promise of … more. He stops his trails at my nipples and squeezes them, first with the fingertips and then burying his nails into my flesh. It hurts and I moan in pleasure. I do enjoy well-dosed pain. He chuckles.

“I thought so. You're just the type. I might give you what you need.”

A flick of his wand and a non-verbal spell, cords slither around my wrists, tight, but not uncomfortable. The voice of reason screams its warnings and rings the alarm bells.

“ _This is Severus Snape and you are naked, bound and helpless! You are at his mercy and you have given him enough reason for wanting revenge. Run!”_

I don't listen. If he wants to punish me for what I've done, he has every right to do so. I don't wait for his next orders and simply try to get down on my knees again to show my complete submission. It's hard to keep my balance with my hands tied and I guess I look quite clumsy. My head lowered I stare at his feet and out of a sudden desire I lean down and kiss his boots. He lets me for a moment and then pulls my hair again violently.

“Not the least bit of self control, slobbering on my shoes like a dog. You'll never touch me again without permission, understood?”

I know I shouldn't have done that. I dare to meet his eyes, pleading, not knowing what for.

“Cat eat your tongue? I've asked you a question.”

“Yes,..... Severus? … Master? Sir?”

“Good, you've had some basic training. Severus will do, we don't need empty formalities between us. Obedience is not shown by using a title. Nevertheless you need to learn discipline and your impudence can't go unpunished. You agree?”

“Yes, Severus.”

He summons a footstool.

“Lean over, head down, bottom up. …..Good boy.”

I lie there feeling like a reckless fool. Since when has this ever stopped me? I know he is watching me, though I don't dare to turn my head away from the carpet. I don't hear the spell before another cord binds my ankles. His hands trace my spine and I'm shivering, in fear or anticipation? I don't know. Is there a difference?

He pushes my hands up my back to get them out of the way. Soft strokes on my bum, tender, loving.

“Nice and firm and so white.”

I think I hear a trace of appreciation or is it just wishful thinking?

“I think it will look even nicer with a bit of colour,” he ponders. The tension is killing me and he enjoys it that I still don't know what to expect. Pain or pleasure?  
Pleasure in pain? A slap on my cheek, not too hard, just enough to sting and give a warm sensation. My cock twitches in response. Pure pleasure! This is not the real thing. He said punishment....

A second voice in my mind is now fully awake, the voice of lust, of madness. It screams for more, harder; punish me; hurt me. The effort you take to teach me discipline will show that you care.

Severus casts another summoning spell. I can't figure out what he called for. For a split second my imagination is running wild and my body tightens. One single thought overrules everything. I trust Severus! There may be reasons for this feeling. I don't know, if they are good enough reasons, but it doesn't matter. Trust doesn't need reason. It's those little things that make me feel safe in his power, in his care. Little things like the way he now has moved to my head, lifts my chin and looks at me questioningly.

“Scared?”

“No!”

“You should be...”

I shake my head vehemently. “No.” I repeat my statement. I may be nervous, unsure what's going to happen, unsure if I can bear the punishment, but I feel held safely by his hand under my chin, bound by the strength in his otherwise unreadable black eyes.

“Always the brave Gryffindor....”  
His sarcasm doesn't hurt me. It's not meant to hurt, only to tease.

“No, not bravery, I …. trust ...you, Severus.”

For a moment his face shows disbelief. He seems puzzled by the plain and simple truth. Then he kneels down and lifts me up a bit more. He leans in to a kiss, so soft and tender, so different from the wanton hunger of the previous one.

My head rests on his shoulder. His lips brush over my face, along my neck and I feel his hot breath beneath my ear, when he whispers: “I will hurt you. You know that.”

“Yes.”

“It won't be an act. I will hurt you for real. Make you wail and whimper, taste your tears and possibly make you bleed for me. For my pleasure, not yours. Just because I can. Do you fully understand that? ”

“Yes, Severus.”

“Think with your brain, not your cock. Do you fully understand?”

“I do, Severus!”

“Before we start, you will listen to my terms and agree to them. Listen carefully and think, before you answer. I'm not playing games. I demand complete submission. You will obey my orders without hesitation. You will not speak unless addressed and when I ask you a question, I expect an honest answer. Don't try to guess what I want to hear; don't try to impress me with your daring. I'm not much into empty declarations of submission or begging for mercy. Spare me anything like,” he continues in a high-pitched whimpering. “ _'Please don't hurt me anymore',_ when you mean ' _please do that again'.”_

The relief I feel can be read on my face. I was a bit afraid that he'd expect such degrading phrases. I'm doing this, because I want to. There should be no need to pretend otherwise.

“Good, I thought you'd agree with that. Having made that clear, there's no need for a safe-word, when you're honest about your feelings. If you feel you can't handle a situation for whatever reason or a pain becomes unbearable, I rely on your ...bravery and sanity to say so. When you say 'no', I will stop. It would be a pity to break such a cute little toy. Make your choice. Do you agree to my terms?”

“Yes, I do.”

The answer comes immediately. I agree whole-heartedly. Every single word he has said makes me feel safe in his hands, makes me trust that he knows what he's doing and that he cares. He nods in acceptance.

“Now on to the punishment.” He stands up. “How many?”

What? He can't ask me to choose my own punishment! That's madness! ' _Don't try to impress me with your daring.'_ he said. I won't. I'll try. Calculating the risk against the pleasure. I long so desperately for his touch, for him to make me... feel it. If I only knew what device he has summoned to administer the punishment. I don't dare to ask. I can clearly imagine him smirking at my predicament. A daring twenty... twenty-five to prove I can take it? A cautious six? I've got to say something, before he gets impatient.

A deep breath: “Twelve!”

Instead of an answer I hear a swishing noise. Thank goodness. A cane, I relax. I can take twelve of that. Even your breathing; concentrate on the sensation rather than the expected pain. I feel the cane on my skin, placed precisely to take measure. He makes the most of it, doesn't he? I tighten up again, trying to calm down. The fear, the anticipation is worse than the pain itself. Swish, pang, pause. I count the seconds, knowing he is waiting for it to take effect, for the welt to develop. I won't loose count. He takes his time and gives me the time to appreciate each single stroke. The cane is lowered again, about an inch further down. Just the right distance to distinguish the sensation of each blow. I bite my lower lip at the third one. That doesn't stop me from hissing at number six. At number eight Severus leans forward and tenderly caresses my neck.

“It's almost over. You're doing nicely.” His loving touch makes me whimper softly. “Very nice...”

I can't restrain myself anymore and each following stroke is commented by a moan or wail. Who can tell pain from pleasure? Severus makes a humming sound which I interpret as approval. A gentle kiss on my back puts an end to the punishment. The cords on my wrists and ankles disappear.

“You may rise.” His hands are offered in assistance, but instead of letting him pull me to my feet, I take them to my lips and kiss them. I need to show him how I feel, how he makes me feel. Covering his hands with gentle kisses, the hands which skilfully punished me, every single one of his long, slender fingers, murmuring: “Thank you, Severus.”

For a fragment of a second a shiver seems to go through Severus' body or I am just imaging things. Does he understand that this is not an _empty declaration of submission_?

Severus withdraws one hand from mine and starts running his fingers through my hair, pulling it a bit. I lean against him and growl comfortably like Padfoot would do.

“Mutt.”

I like the way he says it.

“Now stand up. I've decided to change location, before we continue in earnest.”

Standing and seeing how the room has changed to meet our latest requirements, I understand his decision. During the duel it was a gym, wooden panels, very plain with lots of space to move around, a couple of wooden barriers to hide from hexes. Now the walls are made of rough stones like a dungeon decorated with medieval tools. Some of the stuff really gives me the creeps and others I even don't want to imagine what they are meant for. Severus leads me to a part of the wall where iron chains and shackles are hanging.

“It's a pity that we can't take some these with us.”

His touch makes them move and clank. He plays with one of the chains holding it against me like a tailor would throw fabric over your shoulder and chest to see, if the colour and pattern suit you. He is pulling the chain that the cold and heavy links press into my skin and flesh. I breathe audibly. With his other hand he places one of mine into an open shackle.

“Yes, definitely your kind of jewellery.”

We pass along the walls, pausing here and there. Severus obviously takes mental notes on my reactions. I can't hide that, if the things he pauses at give him ideas, I'm looking forward to it.

In a far corner the room has started to equip us with even more instruments of torture. Real torture! A monstrous four-poster, all dressed up with layers of pink chiffon and feathery fringes, rainbow-coloured fairy lights, I can't even look at the horror.

“Get me out off here, please.”

Severus grins.

“The room has a very clichéd idea of gay preferences. Where shall we go? Your place or mine?”

“I suggest mine. It's just down the next corridor.”

“Sounds reasonable. You're sure it's fit for human accommodation? No matter how much I may appreciate the gesture, I'm unwilling to share Padfoot's basket.”

“You really need to get to know Padfoot better. He's the one who insists on sleeping in a king-size four-poster.”

“What about fleas then?”

I rub my head against his shoulder. “It's a bit late to worry about that," Severus pretends to shrink back. “No fleas since 1995, I swear.”

He gives me a sidewards glance.

“You are enjoying this a bit too much. I suppose you need to be reminded of your position. Stand straight, hands behind your back. Spread your legs. Wider.”

He grabs my balls, squeezes them, hard. Merlin, yes! I close my eyes and try to enjoy the attention I've been longing for. He chuckles and mutters a spell. Red silk ribbon flows out of the tip of his wand. A loop around my balls, pulling it tight, several winds around the shaft and finished with a bow tie on top. I moan and the kiss he blows on the top of my prick answers any questions I might have had about the real purpose of the decoration.

“We don't want you to lose … err, concentration, before I'm finished with you, do we? At the right time I might be inclined to listen to your pleas for release. You will beg, won't you?”

I look at him with a mixture of despair, acceptance and submission and nod. I will beg! I would start begging right now for him to touch my cock just one more time, if not... if not I was much too interested in what else he might want to do. It's worth waiting, it's worth enduring the growing tension.

“I am yours to do whatever pleases you.”

His hand closes around my throat.

“Yes, you are. Don't forget that.”

He looks down again. “There's still something missing...”

Before I even imagine what he means, two tiny silver bells are tied to the ends of the ribbon. They jingle at every movement.

“Dress yourself.”

He puts my robes in order with a flick of his wand. I put on my shirt and try to figure out how to get into those jeans again.

“No, robes are enough, your rooms are just around the corner.”

He also shakes his head at the pants. I oblige.

***

It's damn cold in the corridor. I want to get to my quarters as quickly as possible. It's after curfew, we should get there straight without meeting anyone. The bells jingle.

Filch!

“Good evening, Headmaster.” He's trying to ignore me; I return the favour.

“Good evening, Argus. Doing your night patrol?”

Oh great, start a chat with the caretaker. I'm freezing.

“I had no idea that you are on watch yourself tonight, Headmaster.”

“Pure coincidence, Professor Black needs some additional training, after his first week of teaching.”

That was necessary, wasn't it? Drawing his attention to me. Thank you, Headmaster.

“Good'ev'ning, Professor.” Filch mutters as if he only just noticed my presence.

“Evening, Filch,” I reply curtly.  
He stares at me suspiciously and notices the bundle of clothes I tried to hide under my arm. I glare back, not a student anymore, none of your business. Jingle!

“Did you hear that, Headmaster?” Filch asks.

“I haven't heard anything unusual.”

Filch looks at me. I shrug. Jingle!

“That noise, like bells. You must have heard it, Headmaster,” Filch insists.

“I'm afraid I'm not hearing any strange noises. But whatever it is you've heard, Argus, I'm sure you'll investigate and handle it on your own. We're near Gryffindor Tower, so I suggest you check there immediately. Good night.”

Filch is not happy that the headmaster doesn't take him seriously, but he knows better than to argue.

“Good night, Professors,” and he hurries on to the common room to catch the bell ringing culprit. I stand stiff as a poker until he's out of sight.

I heave a sigh. Jingle! Severus smirks.

“You are one sadistic bastard.”

An invisible hand slaps me. Jingle!

“Language, Black.”

I look at him with puppy eyes.

“Beloved bastard.”

“Not quite, but we're getting there. Come on, you look cold.”

We make for my quarters, jingling all the way.

***

I open the door and let Severus enter first. The doors falls shut behind me and my robes and shoes remove themselves. It doesn't matter, because I always keep a nice, warm fire in my rooms.

A casual wave of his hand and I help him out of his robes. He has learned his lesson since our school days and wears trousers underneath.

He settles in the armchair at the fire. “Quite comfortable.”

I don't tell him that Padfoot thinks the same.

Like a good dog I sit down beside his knees awaiting his orders.

“It would be nice to put my feet up.”  
I get the hint and am about to rise to get the foot stool from the corner.

“Hemmmhmm!”

All right as you wish, I crawl over on all fours and back again pushing the stool with one hand. He pets my head.

“Good boy. You may remove my boots.”

He lifts one slightly and I take it on my lap to carefully undo the laces. Then I place the first one onto the stool, stroking it gently, I look up from behind the strands which have fallen into my face. He is watching me. I realize that Severus is probably trying to make me object to playing his servant. He's got to come up with something better to unnerve me. There's nothing wrong with making your loved one feel comfortable.

“Almost perfect...”

“May I offer you a drink? Kreacher has brought selected bottles from my father's cellar. Wine, fire-whiskey, Brandy?”

Severus waves leisurely in agreement.  
“Red wine will do. I leave the choice to you or should I say I trust Kreacher's expertise.”

It's a bit awkward to read the label and reach for a glass on the upper shelves. I take several wine bottles out, put them on the floor and grope for a corkscrew.

“Don't you think it's more reasonable to stand up and do this properly? I don't want half of my wine spilled, before I get it.”

“Thanks for your kind understanding, Severus.”

I fill his glass and walk back not spilling a single drop. At his side I get down on my knees again and offer the glass to Severus. Does he understand that I want to please him, that I love to care for him? He's not used to being cared for. To watch the lines in his face soften a bit, just a little bit, until he notices that I noticed...

“You have been a very good boy, surprisingly obedient. I feel inclined to give you the little treat I promised....”

I look up in excitement and hopeful expectation. Yes please, let me touch you; let me...

“... if I would not fear that the sight will give you nightmares for weeks.”

A chilling cold fills me. Every bit of joy and hope I felt just a second ago is gone.

“Severus... I... sorry...”

What can I say? I had a reason, but that's no excuse. There should have been a better way to stop James from going too far, but I chose to say those words which added insult to injury. I just feel miserable. I have no right to ask forgiveness.

“Sirius,” He takes my face into both of his hands. “it's all right, I was only joking. I knew what you'd been doing and hated you even more, because I could not deny that you still possessed some decency.”

He pauses, there's this glittering in his eyes I by now interpret as having one of his wicked ideas. I love his very wicked ideas.

“I think I should make you choke on your words.”

With that he pulls me between his legs and before I can really take a look at the object of my … dreams, he does make me choke on it. I have no chance to adjust to the enormous cock which fills my mouth. Press my lips around it and follow the lead of his hand at the back of my head. The idea that he is fucking my mouth like that, rough and without restraint excites me in principle, but I'd rather be given a chance to figure out how to handle it myself and catch breath every now and then. The desperate, gargling sounds I make struggling to breathe finally get Severus' attention.

“Problems?”

“Just.... give... me... a break.” I gasp.

“I haven't expected that something could be too much for that big mouth of yours. Want to give up?”

“No!” I protest still panting. I have no intention to let go of his cock now that I can examine it closer and mmmmh, taste it. It's been a while, but I do remember that I've found a slower, more tender approach really enjoyable. Not waiting for his reply I start licking, sucking and nibbling at my pace. The funny little noises Severus soon makes are quite encouraging. It's so exciting to find out what he likes and what not. I try my teeth, carefully, just a little bit. He is suddenly very quiet. I withdraw.

“Who told you to stop? Go on, you...”  
He doesn't need to tell me twice.

I remember that the girls gave me the impression of only doing me a favour, but I find I actually like what I'm doing. I like it very much.

Time to take the next steps. Slowly, but firmly, taking as much of his cock in as I can without choking. It fills my mouth. It fills me. Moving my lips up and down. Merlin, this is....

Hard to concentrate on a steady pace. My own cock jingles in the ties which keep me from coming for just feeling him moving inside me. I moan trying to swallow more and more. I want it all. I need to take breath. Severus groans in protest, but I've already swallowed it again. He's getting close. I can feel it. A little twitch, slow down for a second, up and down again, more twitches, faster. Severus' hand on my shoulder, his nails. Don't push, I know what I'm doing! One more time and again, it twitches, pumps. Letting go a bit to deal with whatever happens. Hot and salty,more and more. Don't choke, don't spill. It's over, I swallow the last drops and let go of his cock. It lies there dwindling, spent, cuddled in its nest of black hair. Cute and vulnerable. One or two drops are left on the tip. I lap them up; it twitches again. Severus twitches. Don't worry, I know, I am careful. I look up still licking my lips. His eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful. He opens his eyes and I smile at him happily.

“You are a filthy little cocksucker, aren't you?”

I decide to take that as a compliment.

“You really enjoyed it, slut. Say it! Say how much you enjoy sucking cocks; say you're a slut.”

“I'm a slut who really enjoys sucking your cock. Can't tell about others.”

I try to take another lick, but he holds me back and pulls me up, kissing me, perhaps trying to taste himself.

“No others? Never? No comparing length or wanking competitions in the dormitory?”

“No idea what kind of perverted games you played in the dungeons. We did not!”

I answer indignantly. We really didn't. Never occurred to us. All those clichéd images of boys under the shower and in the darkness of a dormitory come to my mind. No! I didn't look at James or Remus like I look at Severus. We were friends, just that. I don't want to think of them now.

“No, probably not. Potter wouldn't have liked his best friend being a poof.”

I disentangle myself from his embrace.  
“Severus, leave it, will you? There was nothing. My sex life has never been James' business. He didn't approve of the girls either. I don't know what he had thought had he known and I don't care.”

To my own surprise this is true.

“You'd better not care, 'cause you are mine now!”

His voice is hoarse and he grabs me so violently back into his arms that I let out a whimper.

“I am yours.”

“My own little cock-sucking, cum-licking slut,” he chuckles.

“As you like it...”

“Yes, as I like it. Whatever I like.”  
His hand reaches down and closes around my throbbing cock which I desperately have been trying to ignore. I'll burst or faint, probably both, it he doesn't let me....

“Want to come?” , teasing sweetness in his voice, his fingers slowly stroking.

“Yes,” I whisper against his throat.

“You may ask for it.”

“Please, Severus. Please...Let me...come.”

“Ah, that's lovely, if you elaborate a bit....”

Elaborate? I'm glad that I've managed those few words. His hand still moving is not exactly helping my eloquence.

“Severus! ….need to... pleeease....!”

“So bad? I don't want you to suffer... needlessly.”

The ribbon and the bells fall to the floor with a clink. Without them it only takes a few more strokes and I am a trembling, unbelievably happy wreck cuddled against him.

“Clean up your mess.”

I lick my come from his fingers obediently.

“Rumours of Gryffindor strength and endurance are wildly exaggerated.”

“I blame it on Slytherin skill.”

“Do you? I wonder how you managed to convince the Hat.”

“Begging nicely.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

It feels so good, just lying in his arms my head against his chest. The upper buttons of his shirt are open showing a little of his pale, smooth skin. I can't resist the temptation and let my hand slide into the shirt. Feels like intruding; it is intruding, penetrating the final layer of protection. Just Severus, warm and soft.

“What did you not understand about the simple order 'you will not touch me without permission'?”

He twists my hand away, pushing me backwards to the floor.

“Nothing, I...”

“Am I to understand that you willfully disobeyed? Did my generosity give you the false impression that you can take liberties with me?”

“I....” I love you. Can't possibly say that, can I? “I'm sorry.”

“I doubt you are, but you will be, when I'm done with you. I'll make you sorry. Where's your place?”

Well, I'm cowering at your feet. What more can you ask?

“Don't look at me like that. Down!”

I turn my face to the floor.

“Yes, that's better, doggie.” He prods me with his foot. I don't move.

“Funny, I think you like that someone finally knows how to put you in your place, don't you?”

He stands up and takes a few steps away from me. I can't suppress the panic.

“Don't leave me.”

He laughs coldly. “You can't listen to any word I say. I won't leave. I've just decided to have some more serious fun with my toy. My pleasure, not yours, remember? Stand up!”

I follow his order keeping my eyes on the floor.

“Bedroom!”

He shoves and pushes me towards the door. I stumble inside. One more hard push and I fall on the bed.

“On your back! Spread your arms and legs!”

Magic cords tie me to the four posts.

“Can you move?”

“No, Severus.”

“Good. Mine to play with.”

Severus pushes a pillow under my arse.  
“Much more accessible, but the overall look needs improvement.”

He surveys the room for something and his eyes rest on the curtain rod. I can't see what he is doing there, but he seems to be quite satisfied with his findings. He disappears in the bathroom.

“Close your eyes, Sirius. Guessing what surprise I've brought is half the fun.”

Guessing? Something smooth and cold and slim pressed against my body, sliding slowly over my chest, my stomach and further down. Metal. The back of a knife. A razor! I can't help but shiver. Trust is one thing, but a razor near my private parts is pushing the limits.

“Getting nervous? Second thoughts about trusting a snake?”

“What... the hell... are you up to?”

Get real Sirius! He's not going to cut anything off. Why should he?

“What do you think I'm up to?”

A splash of warm soap water soaks the area.

“I'm going to remove that mass of hair. You'll see it will look just lovely.”

I swallow and dare to make an objection.

“Allright, but you're a wizard. Isn't there a spell to do that?”

“Of course there is a spell, but delicate things are better done by hand. It will be much easier, if you stop fidgeting by the way. You don't want my hand to slip.”

“Certainly not.”

“Then relax and let me do my work. Trust in Slytherin skill.”

Very funny, Slytherin skill. He's right I should calm down. This the boy who could slice patterns from butterfly wings at the age of twelve.

It's an odd feeling, the quick movements of the blade, chill on bare skin.

“You may look.”

Pink, naked, strange, but undeniably interesting. He blows on my balls. The skin ripples. I'm feeling at Severus' mercy more completely than any cords can achieve.

“What does a good boy say now?”

“Thank you, Severus.”

And I mean it.

He sits on one side of the bed inspecting me carefully. He seems to be satisfied with his work.

“Yes, looking decent and prepared, now we can move on to the more entertaining part.”

He plays leisurely with small objects from his pocket. I strain my neck to see what they are. Severus smirks. With his other hand he trails over my body, tickles and teases me.

“You see I've noticed that you make such cute noises when I hurt you a little bit. I like that and I wonder how lovely it sounds, if I hurt you more than a bit. What do you think? Can you squeak a little louder? Can I make you scream for me perhaps? You're not too proud to let me hear your pain, are you?”

I shake my head.

“You can make me scream, if you want to.” It is a factual statement. “I'd rather scream because you like it than because I can't help it.”

“Sure, but you do understand that there must be a reason to scream, do you? There's no fun in pretense.”

“I understand.”

“So the real question is, do you want me to make you scream in pain? Do you want to suffer, because I like to watch it?”

“I want to suffer to please you.”

“Why?”

Because I love you, you damn fool.

“I am yours to do whatever pleases you.”

…and I like the way you look when you are pleased.

“Do you know what these are?”

He shows me two large metal rings with something dangling from them.

“Curtain clamps?”

“Yes, curtain clamps. Not ideal, but I have to use what's available.”

He presses one to show me the tiny triangular teeth.

“Any idea where to put them?”

His other hand plays with my nipples, so yes, I have an idea where to put them. I nod.

“You'll love it and imagine the decorative effect. It will hurt a bit, but you don't mind that.”

It damn hurts, but it really looks great. While I'm trying to get used to the sensation, Severus plays with the rings, pulling in different directions and at last he conjures up silk ribbons again, very long ones. Tied to the rings and the loose ends thrown over the rods between the bedposts. It looks a bit odd.

“Accio bits and bobs.”

Strange things fly to the bed, pens and pencils, small keys, spoons and two tiny demitasses, gold-rimmed with the family crest. There's probably no point in trying to figure out what he's going to do. He weighs each item carefully and makes two equal piles. One pencil to the right ribbon, one pencil to the left ribbon, one pen to the left, one to the right, the metal rings are lifted by the weighs. They soon stand up. The tension gets stronger with each item tied to the ribbons. I gasp at the keys; they are heavier than they look.

Severus makes the weights swing.

“Does it hurt?”

Am I really supposed to answer? Another pair of keys. It does hurt!

“There's no point in trying to be brave. I will add more and more until you tell me to stop.”

I don't, bite my lips instead. It does hurt, but the sensation is also thrilling. Severus adds three pencils at once.

“You're not saying anything. Do you really want me to add even more?”

He lifts the weights on one side. The tension is gone immediately. I breathe deeply. Then he drops them.

“Aargh!”

“Too much? Shall I remove one or two?”

I shake my head. It's amazing. I don't want it to stop.

Severus plays with one of the cups.  
“You can't take these, too, can you? No, possibly not.”

“Please.” I whine. “Please, Severus...”

“Please what? You want them?”

“Yes, I... want...them,” I moan. “Just... do it!”

He makes them levitate and tie themselves to the ribbons, both at the same time. The tension seems unbearable for the fragment of a second. It becomes unbelievable the next. Severus watches me tremble and shiver and he smiles. I'd endure anything to see him smile. The skin around my nipples is stretched upwards. Severus licks it softly. I whimper at the lightest touch.

He moves up and brushes my hair out of my face to kiss my forehead.

“You're fun to play with.”

I try to smile at him, no pain, just happiness to make him happy. His lips press on mine, his tongue forces entrance. His to play with.

He withdraws too soon. Standing beside the bed, watching, taking in every detail, as if....

No!

“Perfectly prepared. Now I can leave you to yourself for a while.”

“Severus!”

I can't believe what he said. He can't leave me now, leave me like this.

“Don't be afraid. It's only for a while. I need a few more things to carry on. Special things your rooms do not provide.”

“But what...”

“Why do I bother with such a virgin? Ever heard of lubricant, you imbecile? You certainly like it rough, but not that rough.”

I am torn between the thrilling promise of a fuck and the panic to be left alone, tied to the bed, unable to move.

“I'm not thoughtless, though. Look to your right. Your wand is within reach, in case a fire breaks out or some other real emergency occurs. Imagine how much I will enjoy thinking that you are lying here. Helpless, bound, suffering for me. Counting the seconds, longing for my return. Knowing that I will return, not to end your suffering but to hurt you even more. You can do that for me, can't you?”

I can. I can't. I can.

“Severus...” There's no more I can say. His to play with!

“Think how pleased I will be to find you like this at my return. You'll be in tatters. You have no idea how lovely you look with that fear in your eyes.”

He leaves without another look. I hear the noises from the other room. He's getting dressed. The fire crackles.

“Headmaster's office.”

***

Waiting for his return, counting the seconds, trying to ignore the pain which seems pointless now. Thinking of his pleasure at my suffering. I can't stand it much longer. Think about how pleased he will be, if I do. Don't look at your wand. You're not going to use it!

Lubricant? He has lubricant in his stores? What for? I don't want to think of him with somebody else. There's a harmless explanation. He's a potion master after all. But he knows what to do, how to do it. He's been with other men. Perverted Slytherins, taking pleasure when available. I knew he is not a virgin. I'm not a virgin neither. 1979, that weird Australian girl, backpacker, almost looked like a witch. She stayed for a week, long enough to find out that I enjoy rough play. Purely physical experiments for both of us. No commitments, no roses, just having a good time. She traveled on to the continent, left a few books. “ _Learning the ropes”_

Severus is different. I want to be his, completely without any reserve. Will he be pleased that I wait for him? Does he really think of me? I gladly suffer to please him. No doubt about that, just thinking of him makes me hard. Will he like it? Or will he think that I only enjoy the pain? I do, but not like that, only because he's the one who wants me to suffer. His pleasure not mine.

I concentrate on the mental image of Severus smiling at me. The clamps hurt like hell. He will love it that they do.

The fire announces his return. He stands in the door, carrying a wooden box.

“You haven't moved.”

Has he doubted it?

“You told me to wait.”

“You could have... I've been gone for twenty minutes. It took me a while to gather everything I wanted. I shouldn't have tortured you like that.”

“Obeying your orders is my pleasure.”

“Romantic fool.”

“Your fool.”

He inspects my nipples.

“Damn Muggle clamps! I should have known better. I've got to hurt you even more removing them.”

I'm not that much beyond reason that I don't understand that he is dead serious.

“I'll manage.”

“I'm sorry. I knew that they can't be left in place for so long. This will really hurt.”

“Do it.”

He presses a kiss on my forehead again.

“I'll be as careful as possible.”

“I know, dear.”

He presses both at once. They fly up pulled by the weights. I scream. The pain has doubled and seems to get worse with every second. The cords on my wrists and ankles vanish. Severus pulls me in his arms, holding me, caressing me. I press against him sobbing. Severus kisses away the tears.

“I love you.”

“You are mad.”

“Mad for you.”

Moments outside time, I've never been happier before.

“Lie still. I do something against the pain.”

“Don't nee..”

Severus puts his finger on my lips.

“Just shut up.”

He grabs a jar out of his box and applies some salve on the sore flesh. The pain vanishes in an instant.

“Good to have a potion master nearby.” I whisper into the folds of his robes.

Lying in his loving embrace revives me quickly. It doesn't escape Severus' attention.

“Fit for another round?”

“Any time. What have you brought with you?” I don't even try to hide me curiosity.

“Tools to torture you as I promised.”

“You won't leave me again, will you?”

“No, I want to savour every minute with you.” He still has this disbelieving look in his eyes. “Are you really more concerned that I leave you alone again than with what I plan to do?”

“You can do to me whatever you want.”

“You are truly impossible.”

I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He tries to pull away, but I don't let him at first.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Giving you a reason.”

Before I know what happens I'm turned on my belly.

“Do” Slap! “you” Slap! “really” Slap! “think” Slap! “I” Slap! “need” Slap! “another” Slap! “reason?” Slap!

“Don't know, I'm notoriously unreasonable,” I reply.

I land on the floor with a thud. I wish he could allow himself to let such merry moments last, but I know how lucky I am to witness them at all. He calls it Gryffindor cunning; cunning to understand what I'm facing and Gryffindor bravery to throw myself against granite walls and into razor-sharp spikes again and again until he lets me in. Severus Snape, you won't break me. Your heart is a treasure worth fighting for.

“Sit!”

I sit down on my knees in front of him, my eyes to the floor. He stands up, pushes the tip of his boot between my knees. “Don't press your legs together. I want you to be accessible all the time.”

My cock reacts to the pressure immediately, welcoming his touch. I don't need to look to know he smirks.

“Fold your hands behind your head and hold your hair up.”

Severus opens his box and takes out a broad iron collar. The metal is heavy and cold, probably spelled to feel cold. He thrusts one finger between the collar and my throat to check the size and seems satisfied. A long chain is attached to the collar, a chain which runs loosely down my chest and stomach to rest between my legs barely touching.

Severus grabs the chain close to the collar and pulls it.

“I should have put you on a leash a long time ago.”

I moan in agreement. The chain is slightly moving and rubs my cock. He makes one heavy link fall on top. My prick twitches at the ice-cold weight. Severus lets the chain run through his hand until it's long enough to tie it to the bedpost.

“Wait!” He takes a few steps back and removes his robes placing them over the chair at the dresser. Then he undoes his laces and kicks his boots into different corners of the room. He puts his socks on the chair and returns to me grinning maliciously.

He unties the leash. “Fetch!” pointing to his right boot.

I can't help to chuckle and scramble through the room to fetch my master's boot. Carrying it with my teeth I return to him and sit in attention at his feet like a good doggie.

“Place it beside the bed and get the other.”

I fulfill the task and sit again. Snuffles would be wagging his tail. Severus rewards me by fondling my ear.

“You can do me another service. Unbutton my shirt.”

I raise my hands, but he seizes my wrists before I can touch him.

“Dogs don't have hands, use your teeth.”

I take a deep breath and stretch to reach the buttons. Luckily the first two are still open. It's not easy, somehow holding the fabric in place with my nose and fiddling the tiny button in the slid with my teeth, pushing it through with my tongue. One done, five more to go. Each one reveals more of this amazing body, warm and smooth, but strong and firm at the same time, a fine line of black hair barely visible under his naval. I have to tear the fabric out off his waistband to reach the last button. Accidentally I stick my nose into his navel and my tongue touches his pale skin. He's ticklish.

I have finished my task and wait for his judgement.

Severus lets his finger run down the borders. There are a few small wet spots. I will have to pay for slobbering. But now I simply watch him slowly remove the shirt. Finally seeing what I imagined to be just beautiful. Not perfect, beautiful, life has left its traces. Faded scars, some look rather nasty, others just scratches. I think I'm responsible for the star-shaped burn just below his ribs. Stupid git, never went to Poppy, if he could help it.

The greyish shade on his left forearm, I quickly look away. Not quick enough, he noticed. He pulls the leash.

“Don't like to face reality, fool? Disgusting, isn't it? It doesn't suit your romantic fantasies to be slave to a Death Eater.”

Each word hurts more, cuts deeper than a whiplash. He tries to hide the pain with biting sarcasm.

“Look at it! This is what I am. It faded, but it will never go away, never forgotten.”

I did not look away, because I was disgusted. With a bitter laugh he presses his arm against my lips.

“You are so fond of kissing. Kiss the Dark Mark, pay your respect to your Death Eater master!”

I kiss it, his arm not the faded mark. I kiss Severus the man who endured this torture with courage. Wishing that my loving kiss could do magic and vanish the painful memory like his potion healed my wounds. I know it can't.

He thrusts me aside. I lie there, not looking at him, not making a sound. He won't listen to anything I can say, only twist my words.

“You're pathetic, a supposed Gryffindor war hero cowering at a Death Eater's feet. Does it give you a thrill? Is this why you're here, because only a Dark Wizard can fulfill your perverted needs?”

I try to let the words wash over me like wave. He doesn't mean it!

“Yes that's it, isn't it? You need somebody to kick you around.”

He does kick me.

“The only way to make you feel something for another human being. You never felt respect for anyone who treated you decently.”

I bite my lips until I taste blood to stop me from yelling back at him. He's wrong!

The mocking tone in his voice is almost unbearable.

“Where do you think I've learned the little tricks you find so enjoyable? Your cousins were my instructors. Maybe I should have brought the old robes and mask? You would have liked that. Kissing the hem of your master's robe.”

My stomach clenches. I want to scream 'No!'.

“You're not like that,” I whisper.

He laughs unhappily and kicks me again.

I wish he could see himself through my eyes. I don't see a Death Eater. I see a man with strength and courage, a man who cares, when nobody else does, a man with great intelligence who's just too stupid to understand that is he utterly likeable, not for his skills, not as a useful tool but as a honourable and kind – allright, his special branch of kindness – person. Not to mention that even in his painful fury he's looking damn gorgeous. I look up trying to meet his eyes. Look at me. See what I see.

Of course, the bloody idiot doesn't. Instead he tears at the chain dragging me after him to an empty piece of the stone wall.

“I'm going to give you a taste of real Death Eater fun. One of Bella's favourite games. Sit straight, face to the wall and try not to get too exited.”

He takes a few steps, returns and pulls my head backwards.

“Haven't I told you not to press your knees together?”

Staring to the wall I listen to his steps, the wooden box is set on the floor. Then a magic blind covers my eyes and I'm pulled to my feet, turned around and pressed against the wall. I feel cold iron close around my wrists and my arms are pulled upwards, spread to the sides. My toes hardly touch the ground. My legs are shackled, too and pulled apart. I hear chains rattle and Severus muttering spells. The chains slither over my body. I'm still not scared. I know he won't hurt me for real. If anything goes too far, he can mob me up anyway. The thought makes me smile.

Bad idea, something which might be riding crop taps at my bollocks. The actual blows fall on the inside of my thighs.

“Pervert!”

I know, I can't help it. I still feel safe with him and my body's responses are accordingly.

“Obviously my words don't make an impression on you. Let's see if this will.”

He tips the chains which run across my chest with his wand and they tighten, the same with the one about my belly and finally the ones which across my groin. The pressure is slowly, very slowly increasing. The chains make an impression, literally. Breathing gets harder and I understand the danger of this game. The tightening chains can crush me, break my bones.

“Do you understand now or do you need to actually hear your ribs crack?”

“....won't...love...trust....” I croak.

Silence, endless seconds, Severus' hand touching my face, blinking in the dim candle light, black eyes, trust you, trust you, trust you....

“Stubborn prat...”

The chains have given way, only as much as I need to breathe. I don't give a damn that this could be real torture. When Severus does it, it feels good. I try a smile.

“Do I actually need to kill you to wake you from your illusions?”

“You won't.”

“So sure?”

“You promised. Pity to break such a cute little toy.” I quote his words.

He snorts. “Do you really listen to what I say?”

“Every single word, love.”

Severus shrugs in mock helplessness.

“I can't break my promise, can I?”

My poor little cock felt slightly depressed. Severus pulls it through the ring which links the crossed chains and the ring tightening around the shaft has an uplifting effect.

He lets the tip of the riding crop wander over my body. Each tap on the tense, swollen flesh around and between the links sends incredible sensations through my spine.

“Feeling uncomfortable enough or should I yet add to your …. pleasure?”

“You are going to drive me crazy,” I whisper with unconcealed lust.

“Which would be an improvement to your sanity.”

A shower of blows rains down on my thighs again.

Severus is humming. “Ham and eggs and butter and sausages. Tea and coffee and bread with cheese.”

I can't dance to the jig, but squeak with the tune.

I'm panting heavily. Tiny beads of sweat run down my neck and chest. Severus catches one and licks it from his fingertip.

“Tears and sweat...and...”

“Take it! It's yours.”

Glistening black eyes bore into mine trying to find out, if I know what I've offered. My mind is incredibly clear.

I feel the slight trembling of his hand, hear the longing in the fast but deep breaths.

I tremble as much, longing to give what he desires to take.

“Please, Severus, accept my offer. I'm begging you...”

The razor blade flashes in front of my eyes. I do not cringe nor look away. I plead again.

“Don't refuse me.”

The small cut at my sternum doesn't hurt at all. Severus watches the trickle of blood run down an inch or two and then licks it up, as if it was a precious elixir of life.

“One muttered spell and you would be mine forever.” He whispers huskily.

“Less than I already am. Dark Magic cannot force the heart.”

“Incurably romantic.”

A sudden jerk and his thumb presses between my lips and teeth. Thick sweetness on my tongue, I drink from him as he drank from me.

“Muggle superstition, nothing can part us now.”

“Nothing can part us.”

The simple Muggle ritual has more meaning than any real magic.

The evening so far has been like riding a broomstick in a thunderstorm. Severus will soon regret that though the words have never passed his lips, his actions say that he loves me. I wait for him to push me away again.

This time the threat increases slowly. Severus has taken up the teasing taps with the riding crop. He makes me wail and whimper like he announced in the beginning, but none of his strikes causes more than a yelp.

“Are you refusing to scream for me?”

In a fit of madness I condemn myself.  
“Make me!”

I realize my mistake immediately, when he doesn't retort and just starts equipping the middle of the room with hooks and rings to attach my chains. Not a word is spoken and I find myself dangling from the ceiling. He's going to give me a whipping.

I'm not afraid of the pain. I've never been afraid of the pain. Crack! It's different. It's Severus. I cling to the thought. Severus, Severus, Severus, it's different.

“ _Not so different at all. Precious pure blood! I can't see anything special.”_

_Laughter. Bellatrix yells curses, useless curses. She doesn't have a wand. The three of us stay silent.  
The cracking of the whips, Bellatrix' shrieking and the laughter of the Muggle-born guards. _

_The dementors draw closer. James' body in the hall, the Dark Mark in the grey October sky. I let them down! I killed them!_

_He sends the Dementors out._

_“Muggle means only! You're powerful Dark Wizards. Muggle toys can't hurt you!”_

_Laughter, worse than the whip._

_Don't make a sound! Don't give him the satisfaction!_

“Sirius! Sirius! What's the matter? Tell me. Sirius..."

Severus! Help me! Can't tell. See for yourself.

“ _Where's your magic now, Black? Your master won't save you.”_

_Don't make a sound!_

 

“Sirius, speak to me. You're safe. Why didn't you tell me?”

Severus, make him go away! Severus, it's not your fault.

“Severus....”

He heaves a sigh of relief.

“You're safe, you're with me. They can't hurt you.”

“With you...safe.” Severus standing at my side, still holding the cat o' nine tails, not …. _Him._

He drops the whip and gets hold of the shackles to remove them.

“No! Don't ...”

“Sirius?!?” His eyes are sad, full of pity. Don't want your pity! Don't need it! Make them go away! You can do it!

“Severus, please... go on. Please! If you stop now, _He_ has won!”

He looks at me and I know he understands. I can't let _Him_ rule my life, can't allow _Him_ that power.

He understands, but still hesitates....

“You promised! Make me scream! You can drive them away! Please....!”

He still doesn't move. I yell at him.

“Trying to chicken out, Snivellus? All words, no consequences. You promised! Show me your power, make me scream like _He_ never could! You ….coward!”

I ask too much. I hurt him. I can't do anything against it. If Severus can't defeat them, nobody can. Severus slowly picks up the whip, his face not showing any expression. He can do what is necessary. He has the strength.

The whip cracks again, tearing my skin, my flesh mercilessly. It is different! Precise, calculated to the greatest effect, Severus all over. Severus! The lashes get under my skin, through to my mind. They shred the images of _Him_. The smell of blood, red haze, _He_ doesn't laugh anymore. I scream for joy, watching the hated face torn to pieces.

The snippets of memory fade in blood red mist. Severus is in complete control, my body, my mind all his. I see his image in the mirror above the dresser, a dark angel vanquishing the demon, full of power, glittering in sweat, so beautiful! I belong to him, nobody except him has power over me. I scream for him, for him alone.

My guardian angel caresses my face.  
“Tell me to stop. Beg for mercy, before I'll kill you,” he breaths.

I call mercy by its name. “Severus!”, and everything goes black.

 

***

I wake up lying on the bed. Severus is doing what he always does, repairing the damage.

“Lie still. The spells need time to work.”

I try to twist my neck to smile at him.  
“I'm sorry.”

“You are sorry? I nearly killed you.”

“I am sorry I made you...”

“I knew you were mad. I shouldn't have gone for the taunt.” It sounds apologetic.

“I enjoyed the power,” he adds almost inaudibly.

“I know. I saw you. You looked unbelievably... beautiful.”

He snorts wryly.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I state.

“Have your eyes checked.”

I reach out for him. “You feel good, too.”

“Lie still I said! Isn't there anything to discourage you?”

“When you're with me? No.”

He groans. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“I can think of one or two...”

“Stop moving or I'll tie you to the bed again.”

“Will you?”

“Ten minutes, all I ask for is another ten minutes not moving. I want some answers in the meantime.”

“I'll try to give you answers. Can you move a bit higher? Twisting my neck like that to look at you hurts.”

“Who did this?” There's a cold hatred in his voice, he must be scary as an enemy.

“It doesn't matter anymore, he's dead.”

“Answer me.”

“Stanwick, Robert Stanwick.”

“The Muggle-born prefect who sent the snakes?”

“That one.”

“The Ministry made that fanatic a guard in Azkaban?”

“He volunteered to do their dirty work. Very few were willing to work in the high security block, too many Dementors. They didn't care about his private parties as long as there weren't any obviously suspicious deaths. It was just the four of us, the Lestranges, Bellatrix and me. He didn't dare to touch young Barty.”

“How did he die?”

“Snatchers! He'd done a bunk, when Voldemort took over and was lucky enough to meet with them before Bella found him.”

“Perhaps even more lucky not to have survived the war.”

“Perhaps...”

There's a moment of silence. Perhaps I was equally lucky that Stanwick was already dead, when I returned.

“You should have told me.”

“I didn't realize before it was too late. I didn't think it could get that bad. In a twisted way Stanwick helped us to stay sane. He sent the Dementors out for a while and what he did was real, not just happening in our minds. When the Dementors returned at night, our hatred of him was not a happy thought they could feed on.”

Severus runs his fingers through my hair.

“There's no need for pity.”

“Pity? I'm only happy you are alive.”

“So am I.”

It becomes strenuous to lie stock-still. I gaze at him questioningly. “May I...?”

“Slowly, the skin is very thin. You risk scaring for no reason.”

“There are already scars.”

“Not so many left.”

“You can do magic.”

“I hope so, I've been told I'm a wizard.”

I stretch a little bit. It doesn't hurt at all.

“Do you think we could...? I mean you said ten minutes, will I be completely healed?”

I move my hand in his direction, but stop at an inch's distance.

“Your back will be completely healed. Your perverted mind seems to be incurable.”

“It's not like your mind is set on something completely different.”

I direct a meaningful look at just below his middle.

“Guilty as charged, you are a bad influence.”

“At your service.”

Severus places a pillow at the head of the bed. “Move up, carefully.”

He straightens and starts opening his trousers, pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor.

I gasp, because it's the first time I see him naked. …. and I like what I see.

Stretched out beside me I feel his warmth. His cock slightly nudges my side. I wish I could turn over and press fully against him, but the 10 minutes are not over, yet.

Severus lets his hand slide down my side. I twitch when he reaches my ass and realize that he healed the severe damage, but not the lesser traces of his attention.

He chuckles. “You will find sitting on a chair a bit uncomfortable tomorrow.”

“Maybe we should stay in bed?”

“And what shall we tell the others?”

“The same you told Filch I needed extra training.”

“I can see the headline in the Prophet ' _Notorious Headmaster of Hogwarts starves his new professor'_.”

“We won't need to starve. We have our own private house elf.”

“Who will certainly be delighted to find us in bed together.”

“Of course he will, he likes you and wants me to be happy. I've never been more happy than with you.”

I grab his hand and suckle on his fingertips. Severus pushes his fingers between my lips and moves in and out. With his other hand he reaches for his wand and casts a spell I don't recognize. I feel funny inside.

“What...?”

“Cleaning spell.”

“Oh?!!” The Muggle books weren't very instructive about that detail.

“You never ever...? I mean not even with the girls..?”

“No,” I whisper and start feeling rather stupid.

The thought that he is the first seems to excite him, but also makes him thoughtful.

“I'll be careful. I won't hurt you.”

“I know you won't.”

I don't care if it hurts. I want him to do it. His hand seeks its way into the cleft. I try to relax. I manage, sort of. His fingers at my hole feel.... strange. Only light pressure, not trying to enter. Still strange to be touched there, sort of unreal. I know that I want him inside me, but how is somewhat beyond my imagination. Severus turns his attention to the rest of my body.

“You may move again,” and he rolls me on the side to face him. He pulls me close. We press against each other; our groins press against each other, rubbing. His cock, I want it, feel it filling me! It can't! It can never work! He'll tear me apart! He said it won't hurt. He'd never lie. I only need to relax and let him do what is necessary. His hands are everywhere, his lips are, too. I belong to him, completely.

“May I kiss you?” I ask. I want to return the tenderness, the pleasure he is giving me. He smiles.

“Please do.”

I press gentle kisses on his neck, his throat. He rolls on his back, while I slowly move down. I pay my loving respect to his body. He obviously enjoys it, when I lick and suckle at his nipples. He takes my hand and places it on his cock. Thank goodness I know what to do with it, if I don't know much else.

I feel Severus' fingers at my bum again, but I concentrate on fisting his cock and kissing him. His hand disappears and when it returns, there's something cool and soothing between my cheeks. It smells of peony. One finger presses at the entrance and my muscle gives way. It slides in, stops, lets me adjust and invades deeper. I suckle at his nipple, stroke his cock and try to concentrate.

“Leave it, let me.”

I can't do anything else anyway. The finger moves in and out, slowly at first, then faster, slower again. I long for it, push, when he pulls out. It turns and twists. Some remnant of reason tells me that it can't be just one finger and I welcome the thought. As many as possible, as deep as possible, as fast as possible.

“Please!”

He stops moving.

“Please what?”

I can't believe he's doing that!

“Fuck me, please.”

Laughter.

“You …...”

The rest is muffled by the pillow I bite. He has moved his fingers once again and …. I have no idea what he's been doing, what kind of spot he touched.

“Cursing me won't get you anywhere. What are you willing to do, should I oblige to your plea?”

I can't think straight. I can't think at all. I need him inside me.

“Anything! Severus, please.”

He has removed all fingers except one which he only moves to tease me.

“I'm sure about that. Make a specific offer.”

What else can he ask for? Something to meet his wicked sense of humour?

“I'll wave a Slytherin banner at the next Quidditch match.”

“Add a long Slytherin scarf and it's a deal.”

“Fuck! Yes!”

“I guess you prefer doggy style?” He says still laughing.

I have no idea what I prefer. How should I? But I get the meaning and draw my knees up to get in position. The smell of peonies fills the room.

Moments later Severus' cock fills me. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all. For a second I thought it would. Severus has given me all the time I needed to get used to the unusual. I get completely lost in the steady pace of his thrusts. I can get lost, when Severus is in control.

The speed and depth of his thrusts increase. He touches the magic spot again. I think I'll pass out, but I don't. Don't want to miss a second of this.

He grabs my hair and pulls. “Do you want to come with me?”

My incoherent reply certainly doesn't match the requirements of correct English, nevertheless he seems satisfied with it. His fingers close around the shaft of my cock, fisting it. There's no defense against Slytherin skill. He is close, so am I. His cock pumps his load into me and mine follows suit.

We lie slumped on top of each other, too drowsy to push or pull out. Finally he rolls over and I turn on my side to watch him.

He opens his eyes and smirks. “Don't forget our deal. You will look just lovely with a long Slytherin scarf.”

I blink, he's not talking of during the match, is he?

“I keep my promises. Who's the one with the incurably perverted mind now?”

“As you like it.”

Exactly as I like it, you utterly wicked son of a witch.

Severus casts a cleaning spell on the bed, grabs the pillow and wraps himself in the blanket.

He's going to stay with me! I reach for the second pillow and summon the spare blanket from the wardrobe.

“Regulus always brought his own, when we were boys.”

“Next time...” he grunts half asleep already.

 


End file.
